


At the Blueness of the Skies

by noctsnipples (kuiperdraws)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Minor Character Death, Sad, Sorry Not Sorry, baby noct, i just wanted to write weirdly detailed baby noct for no reason sorry, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 13:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuiperdraws/pseuds/noctsnipples
Summary: Regis promised himself he'd spend time with his son, but the Crystal and his Kingdom have other plans.





	At the Blueness of the Skies

**Author's Note:**

> pls be nice it's unedited and i wrote it in one go lol
> 
> work is slow and baby noctis is my fav

The day Noctis was born was the happiest day of his life. It was a muggy summer morning, the clouds breaking to bright blue skies, the perfect backdrop from their hospital window as he greeted his son for the first time. The second he heard that his wife had gone into labor, he and Cor had flown through the streets of Insomnia, pushing the Regalia to its absolute limit. Aulea was gorgeous, exhausted and a sweaty mess, but gorgeous nonetheless. Watching her cradle their firstborn had Regis grinning ear to ear, his heart squeezing with the swell of emotions. Regis wasn’t the type of person to cry easily; the last time he’d cried had been during his vows to Aulea, but seeing Noctis lulled against Aulea’s chest, her fingers rubbing over his back tenderly, he weeped. 

 

And the next two months flew by in a flurry of press releases, public addresses, and enough council meetings to make him dizzy. In a blink, he’d missed the first two months of his son’s life. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d gotten to hold his baby. But, Aulea assured him, Noctis would be just fine if Regis jumped in now. It was better than never. Yet, the chance to jump in never came. 

 

Aulea’s passing hit him  _ hard _ . He’s racked with grief for weeks. Her death is so sudden and so out of the blue, he isn’t sure if Cor’s telling him the truth when he spits it out. The world stands still as Cor kneels, shaking with his choked back tears. 

 

He spends the first three days after her death sitting in their room with Noctis held against his chest, head nestled against his neck. Noctis wailing in that hiccupped shriek covers up his own sobbing and he dutifully pats at Noct’s back to soothe him back too. It seems that Noct feels just how grief-stricken he is because they both spend those days barely sleeping and crying until they can’t breathe. Every second he starts to catch his breath, it gets caught in his throat and bubbles up in broken gasps.

 

“Regis, if you sit in here wallowing in it, you’ll kill yourself.” Clarus tells him, pulling open the curtains. The outside world looks just as dreary as he feels, late autumn sucking away the sunlight and leaving the last bits of the bright orange leaves in sopping, soggy piles in the streets. 

 

He agrees, though. He has to push through it for the sake of his son. He promises himself that he’ll be more involved from then on, he has to be. 

 

He breaks the promise two days later when Aulea’s funeral takes the entire day and he’s forced to announce to the entire country that, yes, his wife is in fact dead, and no, there was nothing they could do to help her. 

 

It takes him almost a year to catch back up to his son, the first time since her death that he gets to spend more than five minutes with Noctis, and he has no idea what to do.

 

A firm knock startles him from his paperwork, flitting his attention up as the heavy door to his bedroom slowly creaks open, Noctis’ governess peeking around it as the young boy toddles in. He rubs his hand over his mouth, seated at his desk. His eyes are already glassy just seeing that his son can already walk. It’s unsteady, sure, but he’s walking. 

 

“Your Highness, I’m sorry, he’s been asking for you all morning. Lord Clarus said now would be a good time for you. I can take him if you’d like?” She says, still making no move to follow after Noctis.

 

“No, no, now is a fine time. Thank you. You...you may leave now. Take the afternoon off.” He says, hurrying up from his seat to gather up his son. She leaves without another word, the door shutting behind her with a resounding  _ clunk _ .

 

He’s almost giddy as he hooks his hands under Noct’s armpits, hauling him up against his chest for a hug. “Noctis, I’ve missed you so much. Did you miss me?” His eyes look so much like Aulea’s that his breath catches in his chest.

 

Noct’s only response is a disgruntled babble and some squirming. Regis holds onto him for a moment longer, pressing his nose to the top of Noct’s head. Aulea always said Noct had a very specific smell to him, strongest at the top of his hair. He had to agree, he smelled like summertime. Another grumpy noise from the boy breaks him out of it, and he sets him down. 

 

“Let daddy finish some paperwork and we can play together. Do you still like blocks, Noctis?” He asked, rhetorically of course. He walks back to his desk without taking his eyes off the toddler, easing down into the seat slowly. His damn knee has been acting up lately, and he’s got to be careful.

 

Noctis just stares back at him, however. They stare at each other for a few moments, silent, until Noctis decides he’s had enough and starts to wobble in the direction of Regis’ bed. It’s far too tall for him to get onto, but that doesn’t stop him from immediately attempting. Regis makes no move to stop him as he pulls the duvet off, then the sheet, and then begins to tug at the fitted spread.

 

“Noctis, come here.”

 

The toddler turns, shakily, as if he might fall, to stare back at Regis again. His hair is getting pretty damn long, Regis notes, but it’s still that thin, wispy mess. He starts towards him on unsteady feet, steeling himself against the solid desk when he reaches it. He’s still staring up at him with that neutral expression, mouth open. And then he reaches up, eyebrows furrowing and he makes a pleading noise.

 

“You want up?” Regis asks, pushing away from the desk.  _ Fuck the paperwork _ , he thinks. 

 

He hoists Noct up to sit on his knee, the toddler immediately grabbing at his beard. It’s only just begun to grey, thanks to the Crystal. He’s only thirty and he’s already debating on whether to dye his beard. 

 

Noct doesn’t seem to mind though, squeezing firm fistfuls in his little hands. 

 

The rest of Noct’s visit is spent like this, Regis watching Noct in his lap, switching things around for his entertainment. Once he’s tired of the beard, his new fixation is Regis’ ring. And then it’s a  pen from his desk, and a paperweight he almost can’t hold, and finally he’s interested in opening and shutting one of the desk drawers. 

 

Regis is content to watch, fascinated with the way his son moves, his new independence and desire to explore. It’s such a sudden change from his infant stage. But the relaxed pace is cut by Noct’s sudden crying. It’s so out of place, one second the kid is rapidly shutting the drawer, the next he’s got tears running down his fat cheeks, hiccupping. 

 

“Did you pinch your fingers?” Regis asks, grabbing at his chubby little hands. The door creaks back open, and he whips his head to see who it is. 

 

“Ah, I was just coming to see if he was ready for a nap.” Clarus says, shutting the door behind him. “He’s usually ready to lay down about this time.”

 

“A nap?” Regis parrots back, looking back down at his son. He’s not ready for Noct to leave yet. 

 

“If you’d like, I think he’d be fine to sleep in here. He hasn’t been picky lately.” 

 

“How do you know?” Regis asks, voice wavering a bit. The emotions are catching up to him, and he clears his throat. Clarus knows more about his son than he does.

 

“His governess told me this morning during their walk in the garden.”  _ Ah, _ of course. His governess. 

 

“If you don’t mind, would you help me lay him down here?” He asks, rising with Noct, holding him close to his chest. The boy wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him close. It reminds Regis so strongly of those days after Aulea’s death, he pats Noct’s back in reflex. 

 

“Of course, Regis.”

 

He lightly sways with the boy to soothe him, watching Clarus fix the bed Noctis had immediately disheveled, waiting for him to wave him over.

 

“If you’d like to take a nap with him, I’ll finish up that paperwork for you and wake you in time for dinner. I…I know you’d like some more time with him.” Clarus smooths his hands over the bedspread.

 

“Yes, thank you. That’d be nice.” Regis walks him over to the bed, standing beside his Shield.

 

Clarus nods, silently, and helps Regis disentangle Noct and lay him in the blankets. The boy immediately sucks his thumb into his mouth, breathing in quick takes through his nose, his shirt riding up. Regis can’t help but rub his hand over the bared skin, patting it a bit. Noct just swallows around his thumb, blinking slowly up at him. Regis toes off his shoes before getting into the bed beside him, careful of his knee. He lays on his side, cradling Noct a bit and smoothing his hand through his son’s hair. 

 

He nearly forgets Clarus is even there until he hears the soft scribbles of the pen on paper at his desk, but he easily blocks it out in favor of listening to Noct’s breathing. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk why i went so detailed w noct but uhhhh ??? guess that's how it be 
> 
> find me @noctsnipples on tumblr ;0


End file.
